Project
by Starlight's Poet
Summary: "Guys... Life... It's pretty awesome. Just keep at it. And I'll keep going too." -Monty Oum [Part 2 of 4]
1. Noir Trailer

**In the loving memory of Monty Oum. You are forever and dearly missed, and your legacy shall be continued by those who have the will to make the impossible, a reality. Special thanks also go to Mark Zang, who has also been inspired by the brilliance that is Monty Oum in his fan-made RWBY Trailers.**

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 _"Can you match my resolve? If so, you will succeed."_

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 ** _"Noir" Trailer_**

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The night was cold. The wind lapped and brushed against the trees, a leaf being broken away from it's lush and into the air, dancing as it flowed through, swirling around as it climbed higher and higher. The sky was pitch black, with only the cracked moon as it's only illumination. The cityscape was lit up brilliantly, as from below a towering sky scraper, it appeared to look like a sea of stars, whining and bellowing sounds echoing from all across. People went about their lives, ignoring the daily plights that transpired outside of their daily routines. Past the cities, past all traces of civilization, was the wilderness, vast and untamed, where black beasts that snuffed out any trace of life roamed freely, eagerly searching for new prey.

Here, in Aspluth, a small-scale city in Atlus, so revolutionized by technology that it also seemed like a technological heaven, there was other danger to be found. Rather than the peril of the beasts of darkness, evil and malice lurked in the form of man. Those with and without animal characteristics. The fear of losing one's life was still present, even in this industrialized city, as weapons were traded among hands.

Atop the sky scraper, one could see it all. In Aspluth, there was no shortage of petty crimes. Even now, a transaction was being held between two men: one a man with orange hair dressed in a stylish suit and hat, cane in hand with a lit cigar in his mouth, and the other, the typical mobster: scarred face, ruggish looks, beady eyes, black suit, and a lot of muscle, standing two heads taller than him with several men behind him.

"So gentlemen... do we have a deal?" the man in the bowler hat grinned.

"Give us the goods first...then we'll talk..." the massive figure stated, bearing a gruff, imposing, and Russian accent.

he orange-haired man chuckled as he moved over to the table, motioning his hand. One of his flunkies, dressed all in black with a few pieces of red clothing, followed, carrying a large briefcase. He set it down on the table, shifting it to where it would face the massive figure. The man undid the two locks, and opened it up, revealing a large sum of money, easily in the millions. The mobsters behind their boss ogled at the large amount whereas their leader remained stone-faced, arms folded over his chest. "Now, keep in mind, big guy," the man said, keeping the briefcase open. "This is one of twenty briefcases, each with a total amount of 1 million. You can count the money right here if you want. You'll receive ten cases right up front, and if you agree to help me in my little," he chuckled at his own choice of words. "Business venture, shall we say, you'll receive the other ten at a later date, five days from now." He twirled his cane around before it hit the ground, leaning on with a smile. "So... what do you say?"

The large man moved closer, taking the case into his hands, and taking a hold of one of the large wads of money. He gave a close, but brief inspection, as it to ascertain it's authenticity, before tossing it back into the case. He then closed the lid, and locked it in place. "It is a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Roman." the figure said, taking hold of the case. "I am curious, though... Why do you need my assistance?"

Roman chuckled, tipping his hat. "Let's just say that I've got quite the annoying, bossy 'partner' who's got big plans." he replied, being sure not to give any details. It wasn't that he was under orders not to say anything, and risk being punished for spilling them. It was just that he had no idea what sort of plans his 'partner' had in mind, keeping him on a very strict need to know basis. "And I mean big."

"How big?"

"About the whole damned world of Remnant big."

"...I see..." The man let out a chuckle. "That IS interesting... Just about suicidal!"

"Hey, like I said, I have quite the eccentric partner. Everything was their idea."

Roman smirked as the two made a quick handshake. That was it, the deal was sealed. Now they had the Arpeggio Cartel's aid in the matter. His 'partner' was going to be pleased with the additional back up. Well, then again, they did put him in charge of matters relating to mafia, so that was a plus. Besides, with muscles as big as this, he really doubted that they needed the White Fang's help in the matter. After all, what use were a bunch of simple-minded terrorists who couldn't fight worth a damn? Now, don't get him wrong, he didn't have anything against Faunus in general, he just thought that they wouldn't be able to hack it here. With the Arpeggio Cartel's cooperation, there was little need for them to actual be of use.

What could possibly go wrong?

 **Play "News From The Front," by Bad Relgion**

Then, without warning, the hinges of the metal door were thrown back, as were several of Roman's own men. The door went flying through the air, scraping against the earth while the black-clad thugs fumbled on the ground, rolling about like dolls before slowly coming to a stop. Roman clucked his tongue in annoyance as he snapped his fingers, his men pulling out batons and guns. The boss of the Arpeggio Cartel and his men also became preparped, holstering tommy guns and katanas. "Alright," he called out to the idiot who decided to have a death wish. "Who's going to pay for wrecking my pad?!"

The intruder stepped forward. To Roman's mild surprise, it was a kid, probably eighteen or nineteen, with messy black hair, dressed nearly all in black. He had on a black, denim jacket with short sleeves over a simple dark v-neck shirt, a fingerless glove on his left hand with a wristband on his right. At the bottom, he had on a pair of dark gray, faded jeans that were pulled up to the calves with heavy black boots, which seemed to echo softly in the warehouse as he stepped inside. Around his waist were three, leather intersecting belts, two forming into an "x" while hanging lazily off to the sides, while the third seemed to be some kind of holster with a sheathe, likely for a knife or something with a blade. Resting in both of his hands, directly behind his head, sitting on his shoulders, was a black spear with a mechanical-like design, a gear-motif on the hilt while the blade was a black, obsidian edge, a cog sitting at the other end of the ivory shaft. Staring at the group of mobsters was a pair of calm, almost icy blue eyes.

"...am I late to the party?"

Roman nodded as he removed his cigar and crushed it with his cane. "...Oookay."

The Arpeggio Cartel nodded his head to his cronies. "...kill 'em."

In the next second, gunfire hailed through the entire warehouse.

Screams of agony and fear soon followed. But not from the teenager's mouth.

As the bullets came close, he weaved around the line of fire as he rushed in towards the armed men. When he got to the closest one. He shot his hand out and grabbed him by the throat. In a swift movement, he ripped it out, blood spurting all over him. The bastard was paralyzed in shock as his words were replaced by incomprehensible garbles. He fell over dead.

The mobsters were surprised by the sudden action, but soon recovered, aiming their guns at him. The black-haired youth jumped up, avoiding the spray of bullets, his spear twirling about in hand, knocking away any shots that came at him from above. His feet landed right on top of the black van that Roman arrived in, taking up a comfortable position with his legs dangling over the edge, and leaning on his spear, which was now lodged into the roof. He gave them a mocking, almost bored smile. "...that it?"

Roman scowled, and in response to the teen's words, aimed his cane at him. "How about this?" A crosshair popped up from the end of the cane. A second later, a flaming blast shot out.

The black-haired boy jumped up from the van as the blast rammed straight into it, sending it right off of it's wheels, and skidding through the ground, hitting the metal walls. Once he landed back on his feet, three of Roman's goons ran up to him, batons in hand. He shook his head, as if disappointed in them, and held his spear in one hand. The shaft retracted, and the blade began to morph, shrinking down in size while the hilt churned and whirled about. When the closest thug jumped up, he swung up his baton down.

A sword met it head on. The teen smirked, as the spear had now changed into a one-handed blade. The hilt and guard retained their gear and cog-motif, but the blade become slightly larger and longer, reaching as long as his arm.

With a swift swing, he sliced the baton in two and cut through the man's face. He screamed in pain but was silenced with a kick to the throat.

The other two goons followed up but as they came close, the teen swung once more. But he didn't cut through their batons, but through their arms.

They cried out in pain, recoiling and falling to the ground with bloody stumps while limbs fell to the ground, holding the weapons in question. The boy whirled around, defending himself against a pair of katanas, their owners belonging to none other than the Arpeggio Cartel goons. The boss himself looked at the boy with respect, noticing the cold edge in his eyes. Those were not the eyes of a mere boy. Those were the eyes of a man who would end any and all who stood in his way that he deemed a threat to his mission. Truly, he found no signs of a mere child, but a trained warrior. Roman, however, was fuming. Everything was going so well until this brat showed up.

His 'partner' was NOT going to happy.

"Well?" he growled at the rest of his crew. "Get him!"

The men were reluctant, but obeyed orders nonetheless. They brandished their weapons and charged. The boy just looked at them in anticipation, and smirked from his own bloodlust.

For a brief moment, his eyes flared dark crimson. The Arpeggio Cartel charged in as well, any with guns tossing them away in favor for cutting or beating him down like a dog. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, blood pumping at an irregular rate. He could feel it, the anticipation, the overwhelming urge to stain this warehouse red, to cut them all apart. Voices in his head were screaming in his head, chanting their names as offerings as if they were sacrifices to a deity that demanded to be worshiped with blood. He would kill them all, no questions asked. He would not hesitate, he would not allow so much as a single one of them to leave.

Slowly, all around him... time began to slow to a crawl.

His opponents were moving so slowly that it looked like they were standing still. He couldn't wait for them. He refused to wait for them. They would be takin _g foooreeeveeerrrr_.

They were all too slow. He needed to **fight now, dammit!**

Without wasting another moment, he charged at them.

The first one was one of Roman's thugs. His body moved so quickly that it was almost like a blur to him, that he was accelerating beyond what should have been possible. His sword dragged along the ground, creating a scar in the concrete before it swung upward, and slashed the poor bastard's chest open.  
Blood splashed out, but the teen did not remain to admire his work. He moved to the next one and lopped his arms off. He didn't even let him so much as scream, as while his body was still in motion, he whirled around and cut off his head, silencing whatever scream was going to be released. He continued on to the next one, only to find two men charging up to him, katanas in hand. He grinned wickedly as he put both hands on the blade. The hilt expanded, and the sword began to grow longer. Once the two soldiers were close, he swung the blade.

Instead of slicing their arms off, the blade ran right through them, splitting their limbs down the middle. The blade had also become larger and bigger. Instead of a one-handed sword, it was a giant claymore, which was bigger than even he was. The crippled goons screamed but were silenced ad their heads flew off their bodies. Blood gushed into the air as the black-haired teen moved on to the next target. This time, he was greeted with two goons. They had forfeited close combat for their guns, and tried to gun him down. The teen smirked at their folly. Bullets failed to do anything before. So why would they work now? Using his massive sword, he deflected each incoming bullet as he ran at them.

His giant sword created sparks as it ran along the ground, bobbing and weaving between each bullet that came straight at him. When he got in close, his claymore retracted back into it's original form: a simple one-handed blade. Tilting his head to the left, a bullet grazed at his cheek before he threw his arm up, slicing off the arm that held the gun before he rammed the blade right into his chest, causing the mobster to cough up gobs of blood. An Arpeggio Cartel grunt aimed his tommy gun at him, and opened fire. He moved quickly, pulling the still-alive mobster in front of him, blade still in his chest, and used him as a meat shield.

As a result, his body became riddled with bullets.

Once the projectiles ceased, he tossed the body aside and rushed in once more. The goon tried to reload quickly, but he was still too slow. The sword was wretched out from the "very" dead thug, and ran across the goon's neck, slicking it open and causing blood to gush. Even more blood was splattered all over him as another body fell. Now it was getting difficult to distinguish the real colors of his attire and hair as they were soaked with crimson. By now, Roman and the boss of the Arpeggio Cartel couldn't help but feel as if the person they were looking at wasn't just some random kid. His skills, his talent, his weapon, even his ability to kill a man... they were all signs that he was striking down monsters, instead of humans. That's how he saw them all. Monsters that must be put down. The though unnerved them, but only slight. This boy is a murderer, plain and simple.

Then again, so we're they.

And that in itself was worth respecting, though something about the way he grinned wickedly with those deranged eyes told Roman that this kid needed some serious mental help. He sighed as he looked at his fallen goons. "Worth every cent," he said, taking out another cigar. "Truly, you were."

"I suggest you get their money back," the leader spoke. "If only they came with death coverage."

"Eh," Roman shrugged. "I wasn't the one who paid for them, but I'll pass it along to Junior."

The decapitated head of one of the Arpeggio Cartel thugs flew past them; the last of the fools. Now, only the black-haired teen stood in the middle of a massacre, colored in black and red. The fanged grin he sported was terrifying, as was the menacing red glare. His sword was completely bathed in blood.

His gaze shifted to the remaining two. _"...Anyone else?"_

The boss walked up, cracking his shoulders. "Don't wait up for me, Roman." he told the mobster. "You might want to keep the money."

Roman sighed, shaking his head. Dammit, everything really was going to shit. "If you die, my 'partner' isn't gonna be happy."

"Tough shit," the Leader scoffed. "We are all fated to die. It doesn't matter when or how... but we will all die in the end. Just another thing about being human."

Roman sighed again, rubbing his forehead as he whirled around. The black-haired youth didn't make any moves to follow him, and instead turned to the leader of the Arpeggio Cartel. "You've killed much more than this, I take it?" he asked, but earned no reply. "That skill... I've heard rumors. So, you are the one they call the _**Blade Dancer**_." The boss closed his eyes as he undid his jacket, throwing it to the blooksoaked ground. Beneath the jacket was a thick skin of muscle, a hard body of nothing but mass of strength. "I've wanted to fight against someone like you for a while..."

He opened his eyes, revealing only dark violets with slits.

"Do keep this enjoyable."

"Oh don't worry... I will...!" the teen grinned as he flicked his blade, the blood splattering across the floor.

The Arpeggio Cartel boss slammed his fists together, veins bulging. "I am the head of the Arpeggio Cartel, Richard Sun." he announced him. "Come, Blade Dancer... Let us dance to the melody that sings our death!"

"Hehehe... you mean your death." the one known as the Blade Dancer cackled, a maddening gleam in his red eyes. "I already died a long time ago!"

With that, the two charged. Richard attacked first. He rammed his fist down to where the teen was. He leaped back, performing a swift backflip as the earth where he once stood was obliterated, shards of concrete flying into the air. There was a large crater at his feet. "Not bad..." The teen whistled. He then changed his weapon into its spear mode. "But you will need more than that to stop me."

Richard gave him an impassive, intense gaze. "...then come."

He smirked. "Gladly."

He jumped up and extended his spear forward. The spear shifted, and returned to it's claymore appearance. Richard caught the blade in between his hands, keeping it in place before he twirled about on his foot, throwing the teen quite a ways. The young man tumbled in the air before he shifted his weight and reoriented himself. He landed on his feet atop a crate. Richard was already in front of him, bringing down his arms. He brought up his claymore, using it as a shield, but the impact was enough to cause him to crash into the ground, which broke apart and created a cloud of debris. He soon leaped out from it, his sword back into it's shortened form, but the leader of the Arpeggio Cartel was already after him, arms outstretched, as if ready to kill him. Richard reared his arm back, as if trying to punch him, but the black-haired youth easily evaded it, grabbing hold of his wrist and flipping himself around him, whirling about and ramming his heel into the back of his head, and thereby sending him flying into the ground. Richard was quick to recover, landing on the ground with small cracks underneath his boots.

The teen landed a bit away from him, crouching at first before standing up at full height, resting his blade on his shoulder. His eyes glared at the man, still bearing their cold red gaze and that terrifying smirk before he whirled about into a new stance; feet spread about, crouched, and the blade flipped into an underhand fashion.

Richard took a moment to observe. An underhand sword style? He rarely saw those as they were unorthodox and quite difficult to use. But, then again, given who his opponent was, he should not have been surprised. He has heard many stories about this talented fighter, this seemingly killer of killers. His prowess with a blade was something to be feared. Truly... he had been waiting for a fight like this. Ah, but now was hardly any time to be admiring his opponent. This was to be a fight to the death, where both would fight until one was beaten, broken, or dead. He cracked his index fingers, then his middle, and finally, his ring and pinkies. He put one foot back, and braced himself.

This would be it... the final strike. After this... one would be dead, and the other, would be the victor.

The teen pulled himself along the ground and propelled himself forward. He was moving at greater speeds than before. The sword in his hand whistled through the air. Richard shot forward like a bullet, his arm outstretched, as if ready to ram him through. Both were closing in on one another quite rapidly. What happened next would decide the outcome.

They reached each other. A loud crack was heard, accompanied by a flash of silver. A large cloud had enclosed the moon, ceasing it's illumination, and shrouding the warehouse in darkness. Several seconds passed, with only a pregnant silence as the only true form of sound. It seemed like hours as the clouds slowly moved about, pulling away from the shattered moon. The teen had moved out of the warehouse, no longer drenched in blood. It was an oddity how he was now devoid of any stains of red, given the passage of time. His eyes had returned to their cold, dark blue luster, and his grin was gone. His weapon was now only a mere dagger, resting in it's sheath. As he exited the warehouse, he slipped his hand into his pant's pocket, and pulled out a Scroll. As it lit up, revealing the holographic blue board, his hand danced around it, dashing in a few keys before a black image appeared, accompanied by a mark that read " _ **AUDIO ONLY.**_ "

"Elaine..." the teen stated, his voice now much calmer than before. "It's me. The operation is complete. The Arpeggio Cartel has been incapacitated."

"Excellent job," the feminine voice resounded. Despite the slight static from the device, the voice itself was smooth and melodious. "I knew you could do it."

The teen shrugged his shoulders before he looked over his shoulder. The warehouse looked like nothing short but a slaughterhouse now, with corpses sprawled all over the floor, blood splattered everywhere, limbs cut off, and heads still on the concrete. In the center of it all was Richard, who had been cut in half. His legs were over by the other end of the warehouse, his severed spine clearly visible, as was the lingering entrails. His upper torso was right in the most heavily diluted of the bloody warehouse, his expression showing nothing but content with facing a powerful opponent, his arms still clenched in defiance. His organs were slowly spilling out from the open wound, and a large pool of blood was slowly growing underneath it.

The black-haired youth showed visible regret, as his eyes winced before he looked back at the Scroll in his hands. "...could you add something in the report?"

"Sure. What is it?"

He grimaced. "...tell the Headmaster I did it again."

"..." the voice was now silent. What seemed like hours to him was nothing but the cold silence, with only the blaring sounds of the wailing alarms and cries of Aspluth crying out all around him like a chaotic symphony. "...I understand."

"Sorry about all of this," the young man apologized. "I'll see you when I get back to Beacon."

"Alright," the female voice replied, slightly solemn. "Elaine, out." With that, the communication came to an end. As the blue screen died out, the Scroll returned to it's slim form, and was slipped back into his pocket before he walked away. Unknown to him, standing from atop a neighboring building, an unknown individual watched his battle with great interest and glee, adorned in only a black cloak. From beneath the hood, strands of white hair could be found, while the figure in question had pale skin, and black, vein-like marks across their cheeks, obviously feminine by the giggle that escaped them. It was a marvelous sight, seeing him cut them all down. There was no hesitation, no stopping himself. His bloodlust guided him, his innermost instincts, his truest self laid bare for all to see. Yes, what she saw was his true self, one who demanded only bloodshed to appease his quelling anger that beat in his heart.

It was exhilarating to watch. It was exactly how humans should be. **"It's rather ironic of you, Ozpin..."** the figure said, a coy smile on her face. **"You believe that victory and hope can be found in a simple, more honest soul... and yet, here you have this child, who goes against everything you believe in. Is that hypocrisy, or something more?"** Another giggle escaped her. **"At the very least... You've made this entertaining."** The female figure knew that she was going to enjoy this. Especially how things will play out from here on.

 **"I will look forward to see everything you built collapse and burn..."**

She grinned wickedly, as her burning red eyes watched the young man who had her interest so dearly walk away. **"I'll be watching you closely... young Zack."**

And with that, she was gone... _as if she were never there._

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 ** _"Noir" Trailer, END_**

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 **Z** 340


	2. Burgundy Trailer

**In the loving memory of Monty Oum. You are forever and dearly missed, and your legacy shall be continued by those who have the will to make the impossible, a reality. Special thanks also go to Mark Zang, who has also been inspired by the brilliance that is Monty Oum in his fan-made RWBY Trailers.**

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 _"_ _Guys... Life... It's pretty awesome. Just keep at it. And I'll keep going too."_

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 ** _"Burgundy" Trailer_**

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"Welcome to Tukson's Booktrade, a home for every book under the same!"

It was the usual reply on the same, boring day. The store was never usually bristling, but the young clerk at the front had always smiled whenever someone entered. Her appearance greatly contrasted with the unique, if not rustic atmosphere of the store. Her hair was dark ebony, falling past her shoulders with a sharp nose and chin, a pair of cold, if not icy, blue eyes to contrast with her hair. Her attire was odd, to say the least. Black cloth was wrapped tightly around her upper torso, binding her chest while a dark blue robe twirled about her waist, splitting open on the right side while the robe was draped over her left shoulder. She had on dark, if not worn out shorty shorts, and was completely barefoot, which was quite odd. She had a charming, kind smile on her face, looking rather cheery. Her elbows were propped on the counter, leaning forward.

Her customers, however, were obviously anything BUT the average shoppers.

Four men entered the shop, dressed from head to toe in dark clothing. They had black hats on their heads and pairs of red shades resting on the bridge of their noses. And based on the weapons the clerk could see holstered around their waists, they were not friendly.

"You the owner's kid?" one of them asked gruffly.

The woman grinned. "Yep~ So, what can I do for you boys?"

"We're here to see Tukson."

"Ooh, sorry. The boss is out right now, but I can pass along any messages you want."

"I'm afraid you didn't hear us girlie..." the lead thug slammed his hand on the counter and pressed his face close to hers. "Were here to see Tukson...in Person...Now."

"And again, I tell you, he's out." the clerk replied, still smiling. "And again, I'll pass along any messages you have for the boss."

The thug sighed, shaking his head as he pulled away. "You know, I really hate to do this to a pretty face..." he said as a malicious smirk formed on his face, slowly pulling out a nightstick from his coat. "But, that'd be a lie."

He whirled around, his stick trailing behind him-

-and was sent flying through the store.

The other three thugs whirled around, watching their boss smash through the door and go tumbling out into the street before slamming into a car on the other side of the street, creating a dent in the passenger side door. He stayed there for a few seconds, stars dancing around his head before he fell to the ground. The thugs immediately turned to the clerk, who now sat atop the counter with her legs crossed. Her cheerful smile and bright demeaner was all but gone, revealing only a menacing, cocky smirk, and a dangerous allure as she leaned back.

"Careful, boys." she warned them, her tone now mischievous with a hint of danger present. "I do more than just look after books."

The thugs bristled at her mockery. "G-Get her!" The second in command ordered the other two. They complied as they all charged in.

The woman's smirk only grew wider as she leaned back, falling back from the counter, leaving the thugs to ram their nightsticks at the counter. They were about to hop over and beat her down when the counter blew apart into splinters, and they were sent flying through the air. One went out the windows, shattering the glass and spilling out into the street, while the second hit the third thug, and went out the doorway. They fell outside, rolling into the street before they reorganized themselves, shaking off their dizziness. As they scrambled to their feet, the woman walked out of the store, except she was no longer empty-handed.

Hoisted over her shoulders, with her arms draped around the shaft... was a spear.

"Now now, no need to rush in all at once." she clucked her tongue, shaking her head. "I've got plenty of time to kill." She twirled the spear in her hands as she slammed the pommel to the ground and leaned on it. "So then... who's first?"

The thugs growled, and charged at her, batons overhead.

"well, at least this makes things a lot faster~" she grinned as she readied her stance.

The first one tried to hit her at the head, swinging his arm swideways. She easily ducked underneath it, leaving the baton to hit the spear. The failed strike left him open all over, leaving the woman to dance around the pole, proving to be acrobatic and agile as she swung around, using the shaft as a pole as she twirled around it, and swung her heel in his jaw, knocking him away and sending him flat to his back. The second tried to hit her from behind, but like before, she danced around with the shaft, easily avoiding it and twirled around, ramming her knee straight into the back of his skull, and knocking him straight into the shaft of the spear, causing him to yelp in pain and tumbled back.

She lightly landed on her feet, looking a bit bored. "Really now...was that the best you can really do?" She spoke condescendingly.

The leading thug growled as he dug into his coat, and pulled out a handgun. "You bitch!"

"Oh? So we're taking things up a notch?" She smirked as she spun her spear. "How fun!"

The thug let loose with the bullets, firing round after round. The woman easily dodged them, moving her head to the left before performing a side step to avoid the second shot, and moved her staff to defend against the third bullet. When the fourth bullet missed her, barely scratching her cheek, she charged forward, bobbing and weaving through every shot the thug tried to get at her.

When he drew the hammer back for the tenth bullet, she was already in front of him.

"Hello~" She grinned cheekily before she rammed the butt of her spear to the man's jaw, eliciting a sickening crack as he mandible was broken. The thug dropped the gun and fell backward unconscious.

She twirled the spear about in her hand, whipping it around her before it slipped back unto her shoulders. "Man, talk about boring..." she whined, looking around her to see the fallen thugs. "Isn't there anyone that can give me a challenge?"

No sooner had she said that had a car flew straight into her.

She was thrown into the air from the impact, but her body managed to avoid taking any fatal hit. She tumbled into the air before she pulled herself upright and landed on her feet.

"Well..." she spoke, looking up. "Who did that?"

From within the car was the first thug she had knocked out of the store. However, what surprised was the fact that he was clonked out. His tongue was laying out, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his shades cracked, and blood running down the side of his face. Curious, the woman turned her eyes to whatever threw the car her way.

 **[Play "Mortal Kombat"]**

It was hulking male figure, easily two feet taller than her at least! He was covered in a sleeveless white uniform with a metal chest plate. He wore a bone-white Grimm mask that covered the entirety of his face. Only his close-shaved black hair was revealed on his head.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Well... don't you look like a wonderful individual."

"I am going to ask once, little girl..." He hefted his chain saw-like weapon. "Where is Tukson?"

The woman's face froze. "...excuse me?"

"Are you deaf? I-"

"Did you just call me a _LITTLE GIRL_?" Her face curled into one of rage, her icy blue eyes turned dark green, and red circuits began to run along the shaft of her spear, reaching to the center of the hilt. "Did you just _SERIOUSLY_ call me _LITTLE_?!" The blade turned dark crimson, sparks dancing all around her.

"Oh, that is **_IT_**!"

She leaped into the air, and raised her spear overhead.

"What the?!" the man questioned as the girls behavior shifted drastically.

He brought up his sawblade in time, avoiding being skewered. His feet dug into the ground, his strength bulging against hers as her thrust nearly sent him into the ground. _'What strength!'_ he said mentally in astonishment before he shrugged off her attack, sending her back. The moment she landed on her feet, she charged at him again, yelling out a war cry as she swung her spear down on him. Again, he defended against it, parrying the strike and tossing the spear to the side before whirling around on his foot, swinging his blade so that he could cut her in half. The woman leaned back, the blade flying over her, and snapped back up, twisting her body forward and bringing down her heel in a forward axe kick. The White Fang brute brought up his arm, flaring his aura to the maximum limit.

Aura exists within all beings. It is what grants them the power to fight back against the Grimm, to stand against them, to defend themselves against all evil forces that would try to harm those with the power to wield it. It is a manifestation of their heart and soul, the core of their existence. So long as it remains strong, so too shall it's wielder. The stronger the aura, the greater the defense. Among his brothers in the White Fang, he was perhaps one of the toughest, more well-rounded of his brothers, capable of fighting back after taking some heavy hits. That being said, he certainly wasn't one of the more stronger members. Those titles belonged to those in Adam Taurus' inner circle. Even still, he was confident that he could easily take her blow, and strike back.

Unfortunately, he was unaware of just who he was dealing with... nor the power of her semblance.

When the woman brought down her leg, his arm became a meat shield... and a sickening crack echoed in the air, followed by the sound of bones shattering.

"Gragh!" He cried in pain as the radius and ulna and his right arm snapped in two. The broken limb continued to warp downward as her foot came down.

FHe backpedaled, nearly losing the grip on his sawblade from the sheer intensity of the pain his arm was experiencing. The woman tried to come at him again, delivering a flurry of strikes from her spear, as if to impale him, but he managed to defend himself, if only barely. When she tried to strike at him with her legs or arms, he made sure to dodge, rather than defend.

She landed right in front of him and swung her spear in an arc to cut his mask, and face, in two.

His body leaped back, putting some distance between the two. When he stopped his retreat, he looked back at her. A second later, his mask was cut down the middle, falling to the ground to reveal his face to her.

"Huh...You don't look as ugly as I thought..." She commented offhandedly. The assailant was a Faunus, evident by the sharp fangs exposed beneath his scowl, as well as the pointed ears and slitted pupils. Running diagonally across his face was a scar, as if someone had slashed it, and his cheeks were sunken. At his chin was facial scruff, short but enough to be called a beard.

"...I see now," he said cautiously, eyeing her carefully. "I've heard rumors about you... A girl with the power to pierce through one's Aura."

The girl smirked. "Elaine Burgundy, at your service..."

"So... you're the one who is known as the _**Aura Breaker**_..." The Faunus deduced.

"To be honest... I never really liked that title. It's kinda lame..."

She twirled her spear around. "I much prefer the term, _**Spear Head**_." she answered, narrowing her eyes. "And if there's one thing I hate... it's when people go and insult me, in any way, shape, or form..."

The Faunus snorted as he brought up his saw blade. Even if he only had one arm, he knew he could still fight... and he sure as hell wasn't about to get killed by some snot nosed brat. "Well then, little girl..." he smirked when he saw the rage form across her face again. "Come and get me."

" _Gladly_!" She yelled. She pushed herself forward on her foot. The next second, she was a blur.

He brought up his sword just in time to keep himself from getting impaled.

The assailant couldn't believe his eyes. Just how was this girl able to move so fast?!

He didn't think much of it as he backed away, and charged at her, swinging his blade down at her. Elaine brought up her spear, using the shaft as a shield to defend. The rotating saw created sparks as the jagged edges scratched at her spear, but she shrugged it off and twirled about to the left, holding her spear close before thrusting it forward. The Faunus moved to the side, the blade barely touching him before he swung his leg, attempting to knock her down.

She ducked underneath the heavy boot, and spun the shaft around in her hand, trying to knock him off of his feet. He jumped up to evade, and simultaneously brought up his blade, ready to bring it down on her. In response, Elaine performed a backflip, easily dodging the blade. The White Fang member didn't stop his assault as he charged at her, dragging his blade behind him.

Sparks flew from the grinding blades running through the solid concrete. Once he was close enough, he swung his arms up, letting some sparks shoot forward.

Elaine angled her body, her feet planted on the ground as she rotated her upper torso. The blade went flying over her, barely inches above her, before she finally saw the opportunity she had been waiting for. That swing had left him perfectly open, and she knew he was aware of it. She could tell by the glint in his eyes. He was expecting her to strike back, to take advantage of it and take her down by whatever means he had planned.

Unfortunately, he had no idea what was about to happen.

And he was about to find out just what this spear was in the first place.

Elaine smirked as she pulled her spear close towards her.

In the next second, the spear split into two. The Faunus' eyes widened. _'What?!'_

Within the next second, he found himself in the middle of what could only be described as the embodiment of the wise saying, "Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned." And said scorned woman was the Spear Head, Elaine Burgundy. In her hand, the blade-less half of the shaft twisted and a hidden blade extended from the base. Unlike the other end, which had a large, triangular-shaped bladed edge, this was much more slim, resembling a blade found on a sword or katana. Elaine smirked as she charged straight in, her eyes glowing brightly.

"My turn now motherfucker!"

The White Fang solider glowered as he brought up his weapon with his remaining arm.

No sooner had he brought it up had Elaine begun to strike at him with a wild fury, a fanged grin present on her face as she whammed away at his defenses, moving even faster than before. The man struggled to just maintain his defenses with only one arm. The woman was like a berserker. She was striking at him with no defenses present, simply going at him with a rabid fury. He had managed to fend her off, knocking her back a bit after blocking her attack, but she charged straight at him again. He swung at her, but she had simply bent down, sliding right underneath it before she slipped back up to her feet, whirling about with her body in the air, and her arms swinging along with her torso, blades inching for his neck.

The Faunus barely moved away from the attack, using his sword to defend himself again. His brute strength was what allowed him to wield such a large weapon easily, as if it were a normal blade. Even still, the rabid fury of this girl's attacks was insane! He needed to finish this quickly, before she brought him down to his knees. With that in mind, he shrugged off her attack again, this time opting to cut her down the middle. He spun around on his heel, swinging the saw blade with the intent of cutting her sideways. He smirked when she ducked underneath it, and while still in momentum, he curved his arm upwards.

"Your mine-!"

" _ **GOTCHA**_!"

At the last moment, Elaine twirled mid air by twisting and managed to evade the blade by tumbling over it. She allowed herself to drop her separated staff, the blades clattering to the ground, and grinned wildly as she allowed her feet to land atop the saw blade, as it was not rotating. Given that she had barefeet, once the jagged edges start to rotate, she would definitely end up with cuts at the flats. However, before she allowed that to happen, she jumped up, and delivered a hard right hook. Her attack plowed right through his Aura, and his nose became bent. Bones shattered, and blood gushed as he was forced to lose his grip on his blade, and stumbled back. The girl dropped to the ground and picked up both pieces of her spear and jumped forward. She appeared before him and stabbed both her staffs into his shoulders. Once again, his aura was pierced. Blood gushed from the wounds as he howled in pain.

From then on, she started to beat him down. First came a left hook to his jaw, removing a few of his teeth, then came an uppercut to the chin, creating a loud crack. She swiveled on her feet, ramming her elbow into his chest, causing a few of his ribs to crack, and followed up with a roundhouse kick in the same area, breaking his bones further. He stumbled back further, but she was far from done.

She leaped high above him and grabbed his head between her hands. She twirled her legs to increase her momentum and the upper half of her body followed. And with it, the man's head followed.

A nauseating crack resounded. The man's neck was broken.

She leaped off of him, leaping back to the ground. A second later, her body fell back. "Well..." she chuckled, looking at her surroundings, seeing the unconscious (and one dead body) of the people who wanted the man who had given her a home. They were laid out on the ground, beaten down like dogs, just as she had done before in the past. "That was a thing." she gave herself a quick nod, and walked back over to the Faunus. She did feel some guilt killing him, contrary to what some people would believe. He had his reasons for joining a terrorist group, and whatever they were, they were completely justified... but he was a threat to her father figure. Anyone that threatened him was already a dead man.

She pulled the blades away from his shoulders, the sound of flesh being ripped away from it's metal host causing some discomfort for her as she flicked the separated staff ends, splattering the blood across the floor before slamming them back together into a staff. The second blade retracted back into the staff, and the red markings vanished. Her own eyes had returned to their normal color. She took another glance around her, and sighed, scratching the back of her heard.

"How the hell am I gonna tell the boss that I destroyed his store... again?" she muttered, clearly not looking forward to his scolding before she heard her Scroll going off. She pulled it from her pocket, and extended it. She felt a smile form on her face when she saw who was contacting her. She immediately answered the call.

"Elaine," a familiar voice said, calm and cool like brass. The image displayed a young man with messy, if not unkempt black hair, and blue eyes, only much more darker, almost midnight. He looked to be around her age, if not the same, with a face that women would soon over. "It's me. The operation is complete. The Arpeggio Cartel is incapacitated."

She felt her smile become a grin. It was just like him to give her news like that. To be rather honest, she was sort of worried for him, considering that he was in Atlas, doing a solo mission. Usually, she would go with him, but the professor had made it clear that this was a mission specifically for him to handle, one he was perfectly capable of completing. It seemed like her fears were unfounded, but she still remembered his... episodes, vividly. That was what she was really worried about. "Excellent job," she praised him. "I knew you could do it."

There was a noticeable, pregnant, if not unsettling long pause before he answered her. "...could you add something in the report?"

Elaine immediately knew something was up. He wouldn't be acting like that unless... "Sure, what is it?"

"...tell the Headmaster I did it again."

The woman's eyes widened in understanding before becoming sympathetic. She was aware of these episodes he had. It was completely understandable.

"...I understand."

"Sorry about all of this," the young man apologized. "I'll see you when I get back to Beacon."

"Alright," the spear user nodded. "Elaine, out." With that, she folded her Scroll, and slipped it back to her pants. She gave one last look to the sight behind her before she sighed again. "...Ozpin is not gonna like this."

* * *

 ** _"Burgundy" Trailer, END_**

* * *

 **ZE** 40


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